


rough hands.

by nell_ei



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Caleb Widogast Deserves Nice Things, Caleb Widogast Needs a Hug, Caleb Widogast is a Mess, Don't Examine This Too Closely, Fluff, I seriously didn't even think it was sexual, M/M, Sad Caleb Widogast, Sleepy Mollymauk, There wasn't meant to be any sexual tension, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wholesome, hand-holding, sleepy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:27:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23762287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nell_ei/pseuds/nell_ei
Summary: Mollymauk is exhausted and Caleb is not. They're both on watch. That's pretty much it.
Relationships: Mollymauk Tealeaf/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 8
Kudos: 163





	rough hands.

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd (??) by one of my friends out of A03. Plenty of thanks to reading through this during class.

Tucked away in what seemed to be a satisfactory alcove amongst the trees, the Mighty Nein laid fast asleep. With Jester and Beau in one tent, Nott in the other, and Fjord and Yasha on bedrolls closeby, the clearing they chose was silent. It was breathing, filled with life, but asleep as well. The whole forest would be asleep, if not for the two souls that were wide awake. One of them wide awake, at least.

Caleb sat on a log that Jester had seen lying around earlier and decided to drag it over here, a book gently placed on his hand, the other resting on the bark. Mollymauk, however, sat on the ground, back against the brown of the bark. Tough as Molly was, the previous day had worn the whole party out and it was safe to say that Caleb noticed a few hours ago Molly's drooping eyelids. Caleb hadn't mentioned it, of course, knowing that he wasn't in a place to tell Molly off about when to sleep and when not to.

What place? A voice echoed in Caleb's mind. He had none, no place amongst the group he and Nott had stumbled into a few months ago. Especially not when a wandering thought would find itself at the back of his head, then to his smaller companion in hushed whispers throughout the nights they'd spent with the others. And especially not when the place would be for someone like him, who was distrustful and distant in the worst ways.

Unlike Yasha, whose presence was calm instead of wary, and Nott, who was getting increasingly more comfortable with the rest, Caleb exhibited plenty of guarded emotions. He was constantly questioning everyone's motives and he never found himself able to trust those who seemed to spill their heart out to the group.

That is exactly why he had no place, and his thoughts seemed to repeat every evening. But he couldn't leave. Something inclined him to stay every time, some unknown force that was foreign to him. He assumed it was because of Nott, seeing her happy was more than he could ask for, and he didn't want to take that away from her. But Caleb knew that wasn't the only reason. There was something else, a tug in his chest despite his mind telling him to just leave already and he didn't know if he wanted to find out.

At the turn of an unread page, disruption of Caleb's thoughts arrived, courtesy of a tuft of purple hair that decided to jolt up as soon as it started to droop. The corner of his mouth twitched for a moment and an entertained breath of air left his nose at the sight. He lowered his book down to his lap but kept it open with a hand resting gently atop of it, fully turning his head towards Molly in the process.

"Mollymauk," Caleb's voice left him in a whisper but was enough to stir his attention.

"...yes?" The tiefling's head was now leaning against the top of the log after a few moments of adjusting it (plentiful soft noises from his jewelry drifted with the mostly silent atmosphere of the forest as he did so) for his horns to rest in comfort.

Molly's fully red eyes were now completely soaking in the wizard's features in a hazy stare. Unexpectedly being examined, being provided what seemed to be full attention by one soul made Caleb look away. He forgot how daunting it was to be alone with someone, completely alone, that is, with only them conscious. There was too long of a pause before he could continue.

"If you would like to sleep, I will gladly take the watch for you."

"Sleep? Nonsense. Who needs sleep nowadays?" Mollymauk scoffed. His words slurred and prolonged at different points of his speech.

"Trust me, I do not mind at all. I have my books to keep me company if that is the problem."

"It's more along the lines of," Molly narrowed his eyes, now directed to the ever-darkening sky, and a lazy motion of his hands, "I wouldn’t want you to- it wouldn’t be fair to you. Plus, bandits. Bad luck we have with them. Better to keep track of those pesky bastards with another set of eyes, don’t you agree?" He grinned at the redhead, allowing him to catch a glimpse of his sharp teeth.

"I...suppose. If you insist." Those last words hung in the air with Caleb returning to his book and Molly with whatever he was doing, sometimes staring at the moon, sometimes at the fire, as Caleb observed.

In truth, Caleb found the sight to be quite odd. While he inferred that Molly was usually like this on nights that had the whole of them drained or when keeping watch in the later parts of the evening, Caleb had mostly seen Molly with a mocking grin or an exuberant vibe to him. But right now, he was quiet. He barely moved while Caleb proceeded to turn his pages and let his mind wander. 

Molly was still the same. Caleb knew it was still Molly, but a different part of him seeped out underneath the moonlight and the fire's embrace. Molly was still purple, still with his carefully embroidered velvet-maroon coat (Caleb was sure he'd be more comfortable if he took it off), still with the same amount of passive flamboyance that surrounded him. Caleb couldn't explain it. Perhaps if he talked, he could. Perhaps if once he'd voice out his thoughts, he'd be able to make sense of it. 

But not now. Not today. Not when he was just as tired as the rest of them, and just as susceptible to blurting out things he had no idea whether it was true to his mind or not. He decided to stop thinking any further and willed himself to continue his book.

A few moments pass and Caleb finally finished the chapter he was on, he turned to see Molly fast asleep. When did Molly fall asleep? Caleb didn't know, but he was sure that sleeping like that would surely cause pain that Molly didn't need in the approaching morning.

Caleb placed a gentle hand on Molly's shoulder, shaking him lightly. When Molly failed to open his eyes, Caleb shook him harder and soon, blood-red eyes met his once more. It was hard not to notice.

"I told you to sleep, ja? Go get yourself comfortable.". Caleb allowed himself to smile at Molly.

Molly stared idly at the hand that had appeared on his shoulder, warming the spot, a warmth he didn’t feel before. Caleb's eyes move to the ground, the feeling of someone's eyes on him once again raising his concerns. He can feel Molly's eyes wander towards the bandages that extend a few inches out of his coat's sleeve, and he can't help but furrow his brows at his gaze.

A hand with a vibrant snake tattoo that winds down to the back, reaches to grab Caleb’s hand dusted with freckles. Instantly, Caleb's hands flinch then clenches into a fist, but Molly grabs for it, his hand underneath.

"Rough," Molly muttered, lost in his thoughts.

Caleb's whole body tensed up. The only other people within the Mighty Nein that he was somewhat okay with physical contact was Nott and Beau. But even with his closest companions, he was still uncomfortable. Caleb always purposely tried to shy away from Molly's physical affection, since it was too much for him, and his personality, he thought, was pale in comparison to the said tiefling. He wasn't like Molly, who was like the sun, all warmth, and sunshine, always up to showering people with his love and affection. 

When Molly decided to grab a hold of Caleb's hand, he didn't know what to do.

"S-Sorry?"

"Your hands, Caleb. You have quite the rough hands.” He paused. “ Did you know rough hands are a clear sign of hard workers?" Molly's words were low and gruff, coming deep from his throat. His eyes closed for a few seconds as he spoke.

"Um," Caleb manages to retreat his hand back and clasps both hands on his lap, "you assume wrong. My hands are... quite awful,” He laughed dryly. “Despite, what rough hands may mean to- to you."

"Awful?" Molly said in disbelief. It seemed as if the wizard had said something offensive towards him. Caleb looks with wide eyes, motioning Molly to quiet down, hoping not to have woken up any of the other party members.

"Oh no, definitely not dear! Come, let me have a look at them. I am both a fortune teller with cards and palms." This time, Molly whispered excitedly as he managed to turn his body towards the redhead, kneeling. Purple hands were extended out towards Caleb, looking up eagerly, urging him to place a hand atop it.

Caleb bit his lip. He stared back and forth from the fire still going beside him and the hands presented, not knowing if he should follow suit. As he gazed at Mollymauk's hands in contemplation, he noticed the lighter strikes of purple scars that ranged from the palms to what seemed to be up to his arms. He'd always acknowledged the existence of it, but with the close distance between them and in the brightness of the fire, it was much easier to observe and much harder to peel away from.

"Ah, sorry, if you don't want to, that's-" 

"No, no, it's...it is fine, Mollymauk."

Molly's lips upturned slightly at the confirmation of his request, a smile threatening to break upon his face. Caleb couldn’t fathom why something as small as this would bring him joy. He gently placed a hand on Molly's outstretched ones.

For one, Caleb knew his hands were rough. He would be a fool to ignore that detail. Aside from that, there wasn't anything unique in particular about his hands, the exception of the irregularly bitten nails and the bandages that crept up a few inches down his palm. There were also freckles on them, abnormal and messy and so very annoying.

So when Molly had it in his hands and smiled ever so softly, Caleb couldn't help but stare at his warm smile and wonder why? Why on earth would he smile about something as futile as hands, his hands, specifically? The tiefling had said something about palm reading, but he didn't know if he said that as an excuse or if he'd just forgotten.

Suddenly, Molly's fingers began to trace over the lines that marked Caleb's hands, painted nails going over the same lines again and again. It made Caleb contemplate whether to bring back up the topic of 'fortune-telling', but as of the moment, his shoulders tensed as this was not something he was used to.

The initial shock of the request and the actual act of said request still hadn't quite blown over. Caleb bit the inside of his cheek, to distract him from the awkward tension in the air. He wondered if this affected Molly as well. Lifting his head to look at him, Molly was deep in thought as he ran his fingers over Caleb’s palm over and over again. He sighed inwardly. Seeing this, he was absolutely certain that it did not affect Molly whatsoever.

"I like your hands, mister Caleb."

The next thing Caleb knew, his and Molly's hands were intertwined and his breath was hitched in his throat. Caleb tried to calm down, taking deep breaths, to mask his embarrassment. They stayed like that for some time, a good two minutes or so of Molly staring at their two hands, before raising it up and down with gentle motions. He looked to be determining whether or not he approved of it, and Caleb tried his best to ignore his face heating up. Luckily for him, the dim light didn't wasn’t enough for his slightly reddened ears.

"They fit me wonderfully, don't you think?"

"Mh...ja." Caleb agreed. Absentmindedly, that is. There were no words that spilled in his head, no thoughts that scraped the corners of his mind, just words that exited his mouth. Words that needed no thoughts.

"I'm...going to rest now." Mollymauk let out a yawn, his tail swishing back and forth lazily. He turned and faced the log, burying his head in the crook of his arms, seemingly not conscious about what he'd just done. And with that, the tiefling was out and left a dumbfounded human with a purple hand in his.

Caleb's eyes bore into the curls of Molly's head, which then drifted to the jewels on his horn, and finally to his ostentatious coat, now dirtied by the ground he'd been sitting on for most of the night. 

Caleb found himself relaxing as the tiefling slowly fell into slumber. It was an odd feeling, he decided, glancing at their still intertwined hands. At first, his muscles tensed at the foreign contact, but as soon as he knew Molly's eyes were no longer glued to him or his hands, he found himself able to relax. He didn't know whether it was because of his general fear of people or some other, untouched and never to be touched topic. But whatever the reason, Caleb decided that for now, he would let it happen.

He let himself be held, even if it was by the hand, the minimum contact you could get.

"Good night, mister Mollymauk."


End file.
